


Where the Trees Grow Taller

by masterassassin



Category: Panic! at the Disco
Genre: Angst, Brendon is worried, Domestic, M/M, Norway (Country)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-29
Updated: 2017-03-21
Packaged: 2018-09-20 19:21:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,240
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9508775
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/masterassassin/pseuds/masterassassin
Summary: "When Dallon decides to go live as a hermit in Norway, Brendon is having none of it."This is a story I started writing months ago. I'm really in love with the idea, I have a vague outline but I don't really get any further with it for now.I want to finish it eventually but for now I just wanted to see how you like it so far.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> As I said, this is a long term WIP of mine and it might take months until I finish it.  
> I hope you enjoy what it is so far.

Brendon stared down at the plane ticket he was holding, mug of coffee in his other hand slowly going cold. He wasn’t snooping around! He wasn’t. He’d just accidentally knocked over the small stack of books Dallon liked to keep on top of the bar in the living room and the piece of paper had fluttered to the floor. When he went to pick it up to put it back into place he couldn’t help but notice that it was a plane ticket. At first he thought it was probably an old one from the last tour Dallon used as a bookmark but then he caught a glance of the printed down destination. Bergen. The airline logo on top of the paper read  _ Norwegian _ . They’d only ever played one show in Norway if Brendon remembered it right. At some festival. But that must have been like eight or so years ago. No way for Dallon to have a ticket from that show.    
Brendon’s eyes had then wandered over to the flight date and that’s when things really started to get weird. The departure date was next week. Dallon hadn’t mentioned anything about going on vacation. Which, seeing as they lived together, was peculiar.   
And maybe now Brendon was snooping because he shuffled through the books he’d put back on the counter looking for the return ticket to find out how long Dallon was going to stay. He didn’t find one. What he did find though, was a train ticket. Bergen to Flåm. One-way. Brendon was suddenly very aware of his heartbeat in his throat. Sure, they didn’t have a show for a few months, their schedules mostly free all autumn long. But Dallon would have told him of he was going away, right?    
Brendon checked the tickets again. One person. He wasn’t going with anyone else then. For a second Brendon caught himself thinking that maybe Dallon would have wanted to surprise him with a trip to Norway. But it was stupid, why would he? Just because they were sharing the house?   
  
Dallon had moved in with Brendon a little over a year ago. Brendon had simply asked him, done with seeing the way Dallon would smile less and less and become close to depressed the closer they got to the end of a tour. He wasn’t one to live alone and Brendon certainly didn’t mind sharing his spacious home with him. So he’d asked. Dallon had, of course, been reluctant at first, claiming that he was just fine (“Bullshit!” was all Brendon had thrown at him at that) but he had agreed in the end and since then they’d shared. And it was great! They were used to sorta living together thanks to living on tour buses anyway and so they fell easily into being roommates.   
  
The thing was - Dallon wasn’t that easy to read, so it often took a while for Brendon to catch up on whatever Dallon was wallowing about. And now, with a one-way ticket to Norway issued to Dallon’s name in hand, Brendon felt like he’d fucked up. Big time. Because he hadn’t noticed something was off with Dallon. And it certainly had to be something big when Dallon didn’t even tell Brendon that he was leaving.   
  
Brendon took a deep breath and put both the plane and train ticket back inside the stack of books. Maybe he was reading too much into this. He was just gonna calm down and wait for Dallon to tell him he was flying to Norway. He’d probably just forgotten to tell Brendon. And well, it wouldn’t hurt if Brendon kept an eye out to see if Dallon acted strange in any way. Brendon had been out quite a bit lately, maybe he missed something.

  


But Dallon didn’t tell Brendon about anything, didn’t even drop hints that he was gonna leave and it made Brendon worried as fuck. Did he do something wrong? Was Dallon just fed up with living with him? Was Brendon’s way of living too extreme for Dallon? Too energetic, too  _ loud?  _ __  
__  
Another day ticked by and Brendon actually found himself panicking because Dallon still  _ hadn’t said a fucking thing!  _ But Brendon had begun to notice changes in Dallon’s usual behavior. Just little things but Dallon never showed big signs when there was something nagging on him. He’d started to withdraw more, often just disappeared into his room or went out for long walks or drives around town. Usually he liked to spend a good amount of time just chilling on their couch, reading or playing with the dogs or even gaming with Brendon. He’d smile a lot and talk about everything and nothing with Brendon. The missing smile now was what concerned Brendon the most. It was probably his favorite thing about Dallon. All the different ways Dallon would smile. The little smirk when he thought of something mischievous, the playful grin he wore whenever he played with the dogs. The affectionate, kind smile he directed at Brendon when he brought him a can of Dr Pepper or shared a particularly memorable tour experience from years ago.   
  
It was only four more days until Dallon’s flight and Brendon noticed the stack of books on the bar counter had moved (not that he had kept close track of that or anything, not at all). So the next time Dallon was out Brendon went up to it and flipped through all the pages and sure enough the tickets were gone. Brendon took a deep breath and tried to calm his hammering heart. A feeling of dread settled over him. He didn’t want Dallon to leave, especially not in the state of at least moderate depression Dallon seemed to have fallen in. Being alone with that would only serve to make things worse.   
Brendon dragged a hand through his hair, his thoughts racing. He had to do something to be sure that Dallon was really going to leave. He  _ had  _ to. So he did a thing he’d never done before.   
  
Brendon hesitated with his hand hovering over the handle of Dallon’s bedroom door. He didn’t want to snoop and normally he’d never even think about entering Dallon’s room without permission, even less when he wasn’t home. But he just needed to know. So he pushed open the door with an intense feeling of guilt.    
His eyes were immediately drawn to the big suitcase lying open on the floor in front of Dallon’s dresser, piles of clothes in it and besides it. It was a lot of clothes. Brendon swallowed. He turned around and slammed the door shut.   
  
On the next day, with only three more days left to Dallon’s departure, Brendon couldn’t stand it anymore. Dallon had gotten worse, barely talked anymore, isolated himself in his room most of the day (probably to pack, Brendon thought bitterly) and whenever Brendon asked if something was wrong he’d deny it with a forced smile and a shifty look in his eyes.    
So Brendon made a decision. A stupid and creepy as fuck decision.    
He bought a plane ticket for the same flight Dallon would take.    
He remembered the departure time and there was only one logical connection with a stop in Stockholm. Brendon was certain he’d read the airport code ARN on the ticket.   
He hovered over the BUY button for a moment, scrubbing a hand over his face. Then he clicked it with a sigh. The ticket wasn’t as expensive as he’d expected, considering the flight was going in less than 72 hours. Not that it would matter.   
Brendon then went to look up the train Dallon had booked. He didn’t actually remember what company it was but he still knew Dallon’s destination was called Flåm. There seemed to only be one serving line but the whole webpage was in Norwegian so Brendon gave up quickly. He’d just buy the ticket on the train, granted that Dallon wouldn’t have cursed him to all hell at that point.   
Brendon closed his macbook, put it aside and rolled over on his bed so he was lying facedown on the pillow. This was so stupid,  _ so stupid. _ What was he thinking? Well, now it was too late anyway. He closed his eyes, but sleep didn’t come for a long time.   
  
Brendon felt like shit the next day. He’d barely slept at all and when he finally did he got ripped from sleep what felt like only minutes later because of a nightmare he couldn’t remember.   
Now he sat hunched over a mug of coffee just staring ahead. He felt kinda sick to his stomach, his thoughts circling tirelessly but never settling on anything in particular. It was giving him a headache.   
Even Dallon sent him a worried look and - after Brendon had sat unmoving over his coffee for almost an hour - pushed a plate with a piece of toast towards him over the counter. Brendon gave him a tired smile.   
  
Two days left and Brendon started panicking again. He locked himself in his bedroom, even though Dallon had left the house again, pulled his suitcase out of the closet and started haphazardly throwing clothes into it. He had no idea for how long a trip he was packing but he thought there’d surely be a way to wash his clothes or even buy new ones.   
Eventually he let himself fall on his bed, staring at the ceiling with unseeing eyes. He fell asleep like that and only woke up because of loud knocks on his bedroom door.   
  
“Brendon, are you alright?”   
It was Dallon’s voice - of course it was his voice.   
“I brought take out. Do you want some?” he asked.   
  
Brendon sat up, looking over the mess that was his bedroom. As if on cue his stomach grumbled.   
“I- yeah sure. I’ll be out in a sec.”    
  
He jumped off the bed and began shoving more clothes into his suitcase and back into his closet. Brendon didn’t want to waste a second of the time Dallon was willing to share with him, seeing as it was a rarity by now. The thought alone made his stomach twist into knots.

  


Even though Brendon had been counting down and dreading the days leading up to Dallon’s departure he still found himself restlessly pacing through the house the next day. Dallon had once again vanished to do  _ stuff  _ (probably last minute shopping for the trip) for most of the day and when he came back in the late afternoon he just grabbed a can of Dr Pepper from the fridge and disappeared into his bedroom for a few hours again.   
Brendon had tried to distract himself playing video games but his thoughts kept drifting to the packed suitcase in his own bedroom and how in the world he was gonna explain to Dallon that he was under no circumstances gonna let him run off to Norway alone. Not like that.   
He got startled out of his thoughts when he heard Dallon’s door open and saw the man entering the room shortly after.   
  
“Do you maybe wanna order pizza and watch a movie?” Dallon asked, sounding unsure and it made something drop in Brendon’s stomach. He hesitated before answering. He could barely stand looking at Dallon anymore without a feeling of sadness settling in his gut. But it was his last evening and the chances were high that Dallon would never want to exchange a word with Brendon anymore after he found out what he’d done. So he agreed.   
  
Hours later Brendon was sitting in his bed, laptop on his knees, googling for the city Flåm. The thought had struck him earlier that he could at least check where he was going, if he ever got there.   
Flåm wasn’t as much a city as it was a village. A very small village with a population of about 350 people. It looked absolutely beautiful though and Brendon could see why Dallon chose it. Probably because he wanted to spend some quiet time there by himself. Brendon was so fucked but he still held onto the thought that Dallon shouldn’t be left alone like this.   
Brendon closed his laptop with a sigh and went to lay down. It was past 2 am already but the flight didn’t leave until two in the afternoon the next day. Though he should probably get there by 10 am since he was flying economy and he needed some time to get checked in and everything. He set an alarm and tried to fall asleep.

  


Brendon woke up with a start at the sound of a car door slamming shut. He got up to look out of the window and glanced at his clock to see it was 7 am. He pulled the blinds aside and saw Dallon in their driveway loading a suitcase into the trunk of his car. Brendon’s heart skipped a beat in the most uncomfortable way at the confirmation that Dallon really was gonna leave.   
Brendon crawled back into his bed, buried his head in his pillow and squeezed his eyes shut.   
  
An hour later Brendon got woken up again by his alarm. He shut it off and groaned. He could hear sounds coming from the kitchen and felt relief flooding him because Dallon didn’t just leave without saying goodbye. Brendon wondered if he’d tell him now that he was gonna leave for a longer stretch of time. He kind of had to, right?   
After taking a quick shower and packing away the last of his toiletries he wandered down to the kitchen and was greeted by the smell of bacon and eggs. Dallon was standing in front of the stove humming along to the radio quietly and turned around to greet Brendon with a Good morning and a small smile. Brendon couldn’t really return it.   
  
“I made breakfast,” Dallon said superfluously and lifted the pan.   
  
“Thanks,” Brendon muttered and pushed a hand through his still wet hair while Dallon handed him a plate and sat down opposite him.   
  
They ate in silence for a while and Brendon caught Dallon looking at him like he was gonna say something a few times. But he never spoke up, until-   
  
“I uh, I’ll be going out for uhm a bit at around 9. Just so you know,” Dallon said, not looking Brendon in the eyes.   
  
Brendon voice came out a little choked off when he said, “Okay.”   
He swallowed down the last of his coffee and and went to put their dishes away. It was just past 8:30.   
  
When the time had come Dallon stood kinda aimlessly in the hall. Brendon pretended to read a leaflet lying on the counter.   
  
“Don’t uh, you know, don’t worry about me, okay?”    
  
The words made Brendon look up and he saw Dallon giving him a sad little smile.   
  
“I’ll be uhm, I-,” Dallon ran a hand through his hair, “I’ll be going then.”   
  
Brendon felt his throat close up and his eyes sting as Dallon turned around and grabbed his jacket.   
“See you,” Brendon managed to say before Dallon closed the door behind him with a last look.   
  
Brendon stood there staring after Dallon for a few minutes, blinking away the moisture that had gathered in his eyes. Then he snapped himself out of it. He still needed to arrange a few things. The first was calling Sarah. He’d asked her a few days ago if she’d be fine to house sit and take care of the dogs for two weeks and fortunately she’d been completely fine with it. Brendon had told her that he was going on a business trip, checking out music stuff and getting to know some important people in the industry. He felt bad for lying to her but he was also sure she’d understand.   
  
Sarah, being the close friend to them she was, had a spare key to the house so when 10 am rolled around Brendon said goodbye to the dogs and manhandled his suitcase into his car. Without letting himself think about what he was doing he started the engine and drove to the airport.

  


\--------

  


The whole time Brendon was stuck in baggage handling and check in he was torn between keeping his head low and his cap tugged down and looking out for Dallon. He didn’t even really know himself if he wanted to be spotted by Dallon just yet or not.    
When he had gotten all of his stuff taken care of and there was nothing left to do besides wait for boarding Brendon actually did get cold feet. He stayed away from the gate browsing the duty free stores with one eyes always on the monitor to see when his flight would start with the  boarding procedure. When it was time he slowly walked over to the gate, scanning the waiting crowd for a tall figure and sure enough there he was. Dallon was one of the first in the line of people queuing to go on board. He had a his laptop case slung over one shoulder and was looking down at his phone. Brendon breathed in deeply and stepped up to the waiting crowd. He held his head low, too afraid of what might happen if Dallon noticed him now.   
But Dallon didn’t see him and so it was that just minutes later Brendon had handed over his boarding pass and ID and went to board the plane. He’d never actually thought he’d get here. He’d thought Dallon would see him somewhere at the airport and confront him about what he was doing here, maybe yell at him and then tell him to piss off. But now here he was, greeting the stewardess and accepting one of the candies she held towards him in a basket.   
Brendon walked along the aisle, looking for his seat.    
  
“Brendon?”   
  
Brendon flinched and his heart jumped into his throat. He slowly turned towards the voice. He swallowed hard.   
“Hi, Dal. I uh-,” he didn’t know what to say. Dallon was staring at him with an expression of utter bafflement and yeah, maybe a bit of anger as well. His brows were pulled together like he was trying to figure out how Brendon could be here.   
  
“What-,” Dallon started talking but a burly man behind Brendon cleared his throat and Brendon turned to see a few people standing in line behind him trying to get to their seats.    
  
Brendon sent Dallon a quick unsure smile and then went to find his row.

  


It was not a pleasant flight for Brendon. Over the first five hours he tried to sleep and couldn’t, he tried to read and was hit with a wave of nausea so he put his magazine away and stared straight ahead. No song on his phone was the right one and he’d either already seen the movies on the Inflight Entertainment or wasn’t interested. Whenever Brendon had to pee he walked the longer way to the lavatories so he didn’t have to pass by Dallon’s row.   
The dinner was surprisingly good and after six hours Brendon finally found some sleep. He woke up five minutes before the captain announced their approach to Arlanda Airport in Stockholm and he looked outside to see jagged land once they sunk below cloud level. It looked impressive.   
  
The plane landed smoothly and after the captain had taxied it to the gate and gave clearance to the doors Brendon stayed as long as he could without making it weird to avoid Dallon for just a few more minutes. They had three and a half hours to bridge in Stockholm. Dallon would have plenty of time to kill him.   
  
Brendon exited the gate cautiously. Of course Dallon was waiting for him but Brendon was still too far away to read his expression. He took a deep breath, shrugged his bag up on his shoulder and walked over to him.   
  
“Brendon, what the  __ fuck  are you doing here?!” Dallon hissed at him as soon as he was within earshot. His expression was very definitely angry now.   
  
And suddenly Brendon too felt anger bubbling up in him. Fuck Dallon with his stupid idea of running away to freakin Norway.   
  
“I could ask you the same,” Brendon said defensively, voice raised, “What the hell are you thinking running off like that?”   
  
“That’s none of your goddamn business! We’re not touring, you do all interviews alone. There’s no fucking reason for me to be in LA.”   
  
And that one made Brendon’s stomach drop. Dallon was fed up with him, he’d finally had enough of Brendon’s stupid antics and that was probably the real reason he’d left just like that. Brendon couldn’t blame him but it really fucking hurt.    
  
All fight seemed to drain out of Brendon while Dallon was basically fuming by now, his hands balled into fists.   
Brendon swallowed hard.   
“I guess you’re right,” he cleared his throat, gaze falling to the ground, “I’ll just… check for the next flight back.”   
  
Brendon turned around and walked away, looking for a sign pointing him to a service center, he needed to get his luggage out of transfer to fly back. God fuck, he couldn’t swallow that lump in his throat away.   
  
“Why did you come here? Why follow me all the way?”   
  
Brendon stopped in his tracks but didn’t turn around. What was he supposed to say? That he thought Dallon was getting depressed and he could make it better? That he thought Dallon shouldn’t be left alone. Fuck, Brendon had become so fucking codependent on him that he didn’t even think about the fact that maybe Dallon wanted to get away from him. He was simply selfish and it was fucking pathetic.   
  
“It doesn’t matter. I’m a fucking idiot is all,” Brendon turned around then and pushed a hand through his hair, “Do you have any idea where the service point is? I need to get my stuff before it gets transferred onto the next plane.”   
  
“Hold on a second, okay?” Dallon sounded more irritated than angry now, “You followed me all the goddamn way until here and say it doesn’t matter? Of course it fucking matters and I think you at least owe me an explanation.” Dallon crossed his arms and looked at him, waiting.   
  
Brendon set his jaw, “You want a fucking explanation? Well here you go - I thought you didn’t do well, okay. I thought you were getting all depressed and shit and I didn’t want to leave you alone with that. But I get it now. I’ll just fuck off because that’s obviously what you wanted. Now where is that stupid service center?” Brendon started walking away again but suddenly felt a hand on his shoulder. He shrugged it off.   
  
“Will you just wait? You don’t have the right to be pissed at me.”   
  
Brendon stopped again and closed his eyes with an annoyed huff.   
“What do you want, Dallon?” Why did he ever think he’d get through with this?   
  
“There’s no flight going back to LA for hours-”   
  
“I’ll just wait then, no big deal.”   
  
“Oh my god, will you just shut up for a second?! I’m trying to tell you that…,” Dallon paused and sighed, “... that you weren’t that wrong. About me not doing too well.”   
  
“What?” Brendon gaped at him.   
  
“Yeah just, I rented a cottage up in a small village in Norway, but I guess you know that. Which, by the way, I would really like to know how you found out. It has another bedroom, you can stay for a day or two. You booked that second flight already anyway. You can look for your flight back there.”   
  
Thoughts were racing through Brendon’s head, trying to catch up with what Dallon had said. Brendon had expected a lot now but certainly not that.    
  
“O...kay?” Brendon said and it came out as more of a question.   
  
Dallon rubbed a hand over his face, shifting on his feet.   
“You only meant well, I guess,” he knitted his eyebrows together, “You’re stupid like that.”   
  
“Hey!” Brendon said in mock offence but a tiny smile formed on his features. And maybe he saw the corner of Dallon’s mouth quirk up infinitesimally, too.   
  
“Let’s go get breakfast, I’m starving.”   
Brendon wasn’t hungry but he knew better than to say it out loud.

\------

  
They spent most of the three hours in awkward silence. Brendon didn’t know what to say and pretended to check stuff on his phone. Dallon was reading a book but when Brendon glanced up at him he caught Dallon watching him more than once.   
  
Brendon couldn’t shake the feeling that this was something like the calm before the storm, that it was all just a matter of time until all hell would break loose over Brendon, and that Dallon’s first confrontation had just been a foreboding of what was still to come.   
So naturally Brendon was even kind of glad that their seats were once again a few rows apart when they boarded the flight heading to Bergen.   
  
The flight wasn’t long though, and after one and a half hours they were approaching Flesland airport.   
There was more silence while they waited for the conveyor belt to spit out their luggage and of course Brendon’s was among the last.   
  
“We need to get to a train station now, right?” Brendon asked and Dallon shot him a look.   
  
“Yeah. Do you have a ticket because I already bought mine online?”   
  
“No, didn’t really wanna mess with the Norwegian website. Figured I could just buy it at the station or on the train.”   
  
Dallon made a noncommittal noise, than he asked, “How did you even find out about all of this?” He sounded like he’d been wanting to ask that question for a while.   
  
Brendon ducked his head a little.   
“I accidentally knocked over your stack of books on the bar and your plane ticket fell out. I saw the date on it and was wondering why you didn’t tell me. Then I saw there was no return ticket…” Brendon looked up at Dallon.   
  
“Yeah, I wasn’t sure how long it would-,” Dallon hesitated, “How long I was gonna stay.”   
  
Brendon opened his mouth but Dallon’s look made him shut it again. Brendon didn’t really known what he would have said anyway.    
Dallon looked a little uneasy, his eyes weren’t meeting Brendon’s and he glanced around, avoiding him. Then he raised his arm and pointed towards a cash machine.   
  
“We should probably get some cash. I’m not sure if stores there accept cards. It's a pretty small town.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So here's some more I wrote over the last few weeks. I ended the first chapter on a really weird point somewhere in between a conversation but whatever.  
> Once again - it might take months until the next update.  
> Sorry for any errors I didn't really read over it again.
> 
> Enjoy!

“We should probably get some cash. I’m not sure if stores there accept cards. It's a pretty small town.”

“Oh yeah, guess you're right…” Brendon followed Dallon to the machine and withdrew about $300 in Norwegian kroner. Better safe than sorry, he thought. Luckily Dallon hadn't seen how much he'd gotten.  
  
After they got money they walked to the airport bus station, silence once again their companion. The next bus to Bergen city center departed in ten minutes so they both bought a ticket and settled in the back of the coach.  
  
Brendon had a lot of questions but didn’t know how to even ask one of them without risking that Dallon would end up shouting at him. So he stayed quiet once again, put in his earbuds to listen to some music. An idea occurred to him then and he smiled as he existed the music app.  
  
It was a short drive of about half an hour and when they arrived Dallon took out his phone to guide them to the train station.  
Brendon shivered and ducked his head to hide his neck in his jacket collar, he knew it would be colder than LA but he hadn’t actually expected it to be this cold. It didn’t really help that there was a fine drizzle of rain spraying down on them.  
  
“It’s not far,” Dallon mumbled and at first Brendon didn’t even realize he was speaking to him.  
  
“It’s not far,” Dallon repeated himself, “Another ten minutes.”  
  
“Good.” Brendon pulled his jacket closer around himself and switched the hand with which he was pulling his suitcase.  
  
He relaxed a little as they entered the station hall, the wind chill and rain gone. Dallon went straight for a ticket machine, switched the language to English and started entering their destination info. The screen started blinking, demanding money and Dallon stepped aside to make room for Brendon.  
  
The ticket was pricey, more expensive than Brendon had thought it would be but he paid the price without blinking and took his tickets.  
  
“Should be over here,” Dallon said almost absently and started walking again, then he checked the time on his phone.  
“We still have some time… you wanna get something to eat?”

Brendon hadn’t even really registered how hungry he was until Dallon mentioned food and he nodded.  
“Yeah, sounds like a good idea.”  
  
They walked over to a small waiting area and Dallon told him he’d stay there so Brendon could get food. He left his luggage with Dallon and went to get a sandwich and a cup of coffee at a nearby café.

“God dag,” he greeted the woman behind the counter, his little idea to look up some basic Norwegian on the bus paying off as she smiled brightly at him as he continued ordering in English.

“Tusen takk,” Brendon said with a smile after he paid and grabbed his sandwich, coffee and the cup of hot chocolate he got for Dallon.  
  
“Here.” Brendon held the paper cup towards Dallon who looked up from his phone, expression mildly surprised.  
“Thanks,” he said before taking a small sip. Brendon smiled.

 

 

“We need to change trains?” Brendon asked as he studied the ticket. They had boarded the train now and found seats without much difficulty.  
  
Dallon nodded.  
“In Myrdal. Another hour with the second train. We should be in Flåm around 5.”  
  
Brendon didn’t like the way Dallon was talking. His voice was monotonous, lacking any emotion. Brendon hoped he was just tired from the long flights. He himself certainly was and it didn’t take long for him to nod off in his seat.  
He jolted awake when Dallon jostled his shoulder, telling him that they were almost in Myrdal.  
Brendon sat up a little straighter, pushed a hand through his hair and started to collect what little he’d taken out of his bag.  
  
Brendon stayed awake on the second train. He watched the scenery as the sun sunk lower and lower on the horizon and when he turned away from the window he found that Dallon had fallen asleep.  
Brendon mustered him for a moment; he had his neck bent back again the rest, his lips were slightly parted and his breathing was quiet and even.

Suddenly the voices at the other end of the carriage got a little louder and Brendon saw the attendant checking tickets making his way towards them. Brendon didn't want to wake Dallon so he carefully pulled the other’s wallet from under his hand on the table and fished out his ticket.  
  
“Are you visiting Norway for the first time?” the attendant asked Brendon quietly in barely accented English as he looked at their tickets and Brendon nodded and told him they flew in from LA.  
“Enjoy your stay.”  
  
As Brendon went to put Dallon’s ticket back into his wallet he accidentally opened the wrong side first and saw that Dallon had two photos tucked under the transparent foil part.  
One was of Brendon himself, Dallon and Spencer. Brendon smiled down at it, he remembered the day that one had been taken. Damn, he missed having Spencer in the band but his well being was more important.  
The second picture surprised Brendon a little. It was cropped and showed just the two of them. Dallon was standing next to Brendon and had his arms wrapped tightly around his photo-self. Brendon had his left arm on Dallon’s shoulders and he knew that he would have had to stand on his tiptoes to make this possible. They were both smiling, actually Brendon was full on obnoxiously grinning.  
Looking at the picture and knowing that Dallon carried it around with himself wherever he went made Brendon feel warm all over and there was a twisting feeling in his gut he didn’t want to examine too closely.  
  
He put Dallon’s ticket back where it belonged and the wallet back onto the table. A look at the screen above their heads told Brendon that they were nearing their destination and as if on cue Dallon sighed and opened his eyes.  
  
“We’re almost there,” Brendon said matter-of-factly and Dallon hummed in response and started to pack up his stuff.

They were greeted with the sight of mountains surrounding the small village. Yellow and red houses made of wooden planks left and right from the train tracks who led almost all the way to the fjord. As they exited the train a cold sea breeze rushed over them and Brendon once again cursed his too thin jacket but he couldn’t deny that the air was crisp and smelled clean. A stark contrast to LA air.  
  
They just stood there for a moment, taking in their surroundings, the quiet buzz of what Brendon assumed were mostly tourists flowing over from a nearby shop.  
  
“So this is Flåm?” Brendon asked as the silence dragged on.  
  
“Yep,” Dallon replied, popping the p loudly, “Wait here, I’ll go get the house keys.”  
  
Dallon left his suitcase and went over to the tourist service center. He returned soon after with a small smile lingering on his lips and keys dangling from his finger.  
  
“It’s about a ten minute walk, nothing here is ever far from where you are. I say we go over, drop our stuff, get settled and then come back here to get some groceries.”  
  
“Sounds like a plan,” Brendon said and then started following Dallon along a paved street.  
  
The entire time they were walking Brendon couldn’t stop staring up the mountain to his right. He’d obviously been around a lot but this was something else.  
  
“Impressive, isn’t it?”  
Brendon almost walked straight into Dallon who’d stopped in front of a row of four red wooden cottages. Brendon looked over his shoulder.

“Is this it?”  
  
“The second one, yeah.”  
  
Brendon followed Dallon down a small path and then up the stairs leading onto the small veranda of the house. As Dallon was unlocking the front door he walked over to look down at the water.  
  
“It comes with a friggin’ boat?!” Brendon leaned further over the railing and sure enough, the line of the fishing boat was towed to the small jetty belonging to the cottage.  
  
“Yeah, that seems to be pretty much standard for rental houses in Norway.”  
  
“Oh man, we gotta go fishing! This is gonna be awesome!” But then Brendon’s smile faltered as he remembered that he wasn’t even supposed to be here, that he wasn’t welcome.  
“Nevermind,” he said quietly.  
  
Dallon’s face was completely unreadable as he stepped aside to let Brendon in.  
  
Much like the outside the inside of the house was almost completely wood furnished, but while the outside facade was red the interior was kept in blond wood. It made everything look homey and inviting.  
  
“There should be three bedrooms in here. One downstairs and two on the top floor. Just take one of the two upstairs,” Dallon said as he closed the door behind them and then proceeded to bring his luggage into the downstairs bedroom.  
  
Brendon heaved his suitcase up the stairs and checked out both rooms, he took the one with the double bed and left the other one (two single beds) unused.  
It was pointless to unpack seeing as he wasn’t going to stay for longer than a day or two so he hopped back down the stairs to check out the rest of the house.  
He found a small bathroom with a shower and washing machine and a living room with open kitchen. There was even a wood burning stove.  
  
“It has satellite TV and wifi.”  
  
Brendon jumped a little and turned around to see Dallon leaning in the doorway. He looked exhausted, more than he had all day, it made him seem older. A thought occurred to Brendon and he chuckled. Dallon raised an eyebrow at him.  
  
“I just thought that you look tired. And that it makes you seem older when honestly it probably just makes you look your age. I swear people think you’re younger than me.”  
  
The corner of Dallon’s mouth twitched a little.  
“I’m gonna take a shower.”  
  
While Dallon was showering Brendon flipped through the few pages of information about the village and the cottage he found on the counter in the living room. He quickly found the wifi passcode and logged his macbook in. He dropped down onto one of the comfy blue armchair with a deep sigh and started looking for the best flight connection back to LA.  
  
After Dallon was done Brendon took a quick shower himself; washing the hours worth of travelling off his skin felt liberating. He wondered if Dallon would be okay with him staying for another night because the flight connection the next day was horrible with half day long stops at airports.  
He carefully approached the topic while they were walking back to get some groceries.  
  
“Uh, so while you were in the shower I checked flights and the connection tomorrow is utter shit. Thirteen hour stop in Stockholm. Saturday is fine, though. So I wanted to ask if you’d be okay with me staying for another night. You won’t even notice I’m there.”  
  
Dallons stayed quiet and Brendon knew better than to push the topic so they walked in silence for a few more minutes until they were back in the what seemed to be the central point in Flåm.  
  
The grocery store was small but had everything they needed for a decent dinner and breakfast the next morning and so it was that after some mild translation difficulties they exited the store again twenty minutes later, bags in hand.  
  
They’d decided to make salmon that evening, because they were in Norway, you eat fish when you’re in Norway for just a few days, right?  
  
“You know some Norwegian?” Dallon asked and Brendon’s face lit up in a smile.  
  
“Just a tiny bit. I looked it up on the bus here.”  
  
“Smart, why didn’t I think of that...”  
  
“I can teach you the five words I know,” Brendon laughed and proceeded to tell Dallon how to say stuff like Good morning, Good evening and Thank you.  
  
Once they were back at the cottage they decided to make dinner right away because they were both pretty exhausted from travelling. Preparing the food went smoothly, they were both used to cooking together by now, and Brendon felt himself relax a little. Maybe Dallon wouldn’t resent him forever for following him.  
  
“Brendon? Can you hand me the plates? I think they are in the cupboard over there.”  
  
It was dumb but Brendon felt a little sting in his chest as he heard Dallon address him by his full name, something he didn’t really do a lot. He tried to swallow the feeling down but as Dallon called him Brendon again after they were done eating he gave up. It was kind of pathetic.  
  
They loaded up the dishwasher and because Brendon didn’t want to make the whole situation worse or more awkward he said he’d be going to sleep right away.  
Dallon nodded and wished him goodnight, Brendon replied weakly and headed for the bathroom.  
  
After he was done Brendon went upstairs, he could hear that Dallon had turned on the TV.  
He really was tired but he was right in his assumption that he wouldn’t be able to sleep this soon anyway. He stared at the wooden ceiling for a while before he pulled his laptop up. He was greeted by the airline website he’d opened earlier. The connection the next day really was shit but he wouldn’t ask Dallon again if he could stay another night. As long as he left with the train just after ten he’d be fine.  
Eventually he set his alarm to 8 AM and then fell into blessedly dreamless sleep.  
  
Brendon’s alarm turned out to be pretty useless because he woke up just after seven anyway and couldn’t go back to sleep. He wasn’t exactly jetlagged but getting up that early was still unusual for him. He busied himself until eight and then went downstairs to get some coffee. Turns out he didn’t have to make one himself because Dallon greeted him with a mug and scrambled eggs. To say that Brendon was surprised was an understatement.  
  
Brendon accepted the coffee after he’d wished Dallon a good morning and then sat down on the already set table.  
  
“I guess you’ve been up for a while too then?” Brendon asked him as he took a sip and pulled a face as he almost burned his tongue.  
  
“Yeah, couldn’t sleep anymore.”  
Brendon nodded and began eating his scrambled eggs.  
  
“The Norwegian word for egg is the same as in English. The plural changes depending on the use in a sentence I think or simply because of some stupid grammar I don’t get.”  
  
Dallon’s musings startled a laugh out of Brendon and the mildly irritated and confused look Dallon sent him only served to make him laugh harder.  
“I’m pretty sure that just because English is pretty easy in that regard not every other language’s grammar is stupid.”  
  
Dallon just frowned at him and continued eating.  
  
An hour later Brendon thought that it was time to get his things together. Dallon had just wiped down the kitchen counter and went to sit in one of the arm chairs as Brendon came down the stairs with his suitcase.  
  
“The next train goes just after ten. I need to take that one to get to the airport in time. So uhm… I’ll be going then. Thanks for accomodating me for the night. And sorry about everything...”  
Brendon turned around and walked to the door, his hand was already on the handle when he heard Dallon speak up.  
  
“Just.. Just hold on for a second.”  
Brendon turned around again and saw Dallon push a hand through his hair with a deep sigh. He glanced at his phone, he still had a few minutes to spare.  
  
“I came here to-,” Dallon seemed to struggle for words, “I’m not even sure but I needed to get away. From LA, from the house… from you.”  
Brendon’s heart sunk, it really was his fault. But then Dallon continued talking.  
“Or so I thought. As soon as I was at the airport everything felt _wrong_ and the more time ticked by the more I felt like I was making a huge mistake. Just running off. Without telling anyone. Without telling you.”  
Brendon sat down on top of his suitcase, sensing that this might take a little longer.  
“For a moment I thought I was hallucinating as I saw you on the plane. Because why would you be there, right? But you were and I had no idea how to deal with that. I guess you noticed that.” Dallon chuckled humorlessly.  
  
“I was actually more concerned if you’d wait to kill me until we were off the plane or do it right there.”  
The corner of Dallon’s mouth twitched.  
  
“I’m not gonna lie, I was really pissed at you at first,” Brendon flinched a little, “But then I guess I… felt relieved? Kind of? It was good to have something familiar with me. Someone.”  
Brendon stayed quiet, unsure what was to come now.  
“So uhm… I guess what I’m trying to say is, if you want, you can stay. I’ve rented this place for two weeks and there’s plenty of room.”  
  
Brendon just gaped at him. He’d expected just about everything but not that Dallon would invite him to stay.  
“You-,” he cleared his throat, “You want me to stay?”  
  
“Only if you like.”  
  
Brendon’s thoughts were racing.  
“I.. yeah, sure. I’d love that, Dal.”

  
“Good,” Dallon laughed a little awkwardly, “Want me to help you bring your stuff back upstairs.”  
  
Brendon looked down at his suitcase and shook his head.  
“Don’t worry. It’s fine.”  
  
“Okay.” Dallon smiled and then turned around hesitantly to walk back into the living room.  
  
Brendon stood there staring after him for a moment, trying to comprehend what just happened. Then he shook his head and brought his bag back upstairs.  
When he came down again Dallon was sitting on the couch, TV turned on. Brendon hesitated and felt really awkward about it but eventually sat down next to him, keeping his distance. They sat in silence watching a nature documentary about wild salmon for a while until Brendon just couldn’t take it anymore.  
  
“Why Norway?” he asked quietly.  
  
Dallon turned around to face him, he shrugged.  
“I saw a documentary, it looked nice.”  
  
“You _saw a documentary?!”_  
  
The corner of Dallon’s mouth twitched in an almost-smile.  
“Yeah, what about it?”  
  
“You arbitrarily chose where to run off to?”  
  
“Basically. It didn’t really matter. And can you be mad? I mean look at this.” Dallon made an allencompasing hand gesture.  
  
“Guess not,” Brendon replied, a little irritated, “But it’s not exactly the closest choice. You could have- I don’t know, gone to the Rocky Mountains?”  
  
“Not far enough away. I was just… I don’t know, Brendon. Everything was just too much. Everything just… happens so much.”  
  
Brendon gaped at him in disbelief.  
“You did not just quote Horse ebooks to me?!”  
  
Dallon laughed and broke the tension.  
“It seemed fitting.”  
  
Brendon looked at him for a moment, small smile forming on his lips.  
“It’s good to see you laugh,” he said quietly, “It doesn’t happen enough.”  
  
“Yeah, well…” Dallon pushed a hand through his hair with a sigh but didn’t say anything else.  
  
“So…” they both started at the same time after some more uncomfortable silence. It made them laugh and Brendon motioned for Dallon to go ahead.  
  
“I was thinking, we didn’t really buy a lot of food so maybe we could go out, look around the village a little, maybe eat lunch somewhere and then get more groceries for the next days. If that sounds okay to you?”  
  
“Yeah, great. Sounds good.” Brendon really hoped they’d lose this newfound awkwardness around each other soon. It was stressing him out.  
  
Dallon turned off the TV and got up to pull on his coat and shoes.  
“Maybe dress a little warmer. It’s only like 45.” He wrapped a scarf around his neck. Brendon hadn’t seen Dallon wearing one very often. It looked good on him.  
  
Ten minutes later they stepped out of the cottage and Dallon locked the door behind them.  
“Here,” he handed Brendon a key, “They gave me two.”  
  
Brendon accepted it with a nod and then they started walking down what felt like the only road in the whole village. On their way Dallon tried to read a street sign and hilariously butchered the pronunciation so Brendon tried himself and didn’t do much better. From there on they tried to read and pronounce every sign they saw and as they reached the village center once again Brendon was giggling and Dallon was smiling brightly. Right now it seemed almost unbelievable how tense they’d been just hours ago.  
  
They walked to the pier and looked over the fjord. A few fishing boats were out on the water.  
  
“The cruise ships stop here in spring and summer. Kinda weird to have a gigantic ship like that harboring in a village with a population of about-”  
  
“Three hundred and fifty, I know. I read a little about Flåm once I, well, once I knew where I was going.” Brendon blushed a little.  
  
“It’s okay, Brendon. I’m not mad that you’re here… I think,” Dallon frowned a little.  
  
Brendon really wanted to believe it but the fact alone that Dallon was still calling him by his full first name was an indication that not everything was okay between them.  
  
“I’m sorry, Dal. I know I’ve said it before but I shouldn’t have invaded your privacy like this. Following you here, that was pretty fucked up. I’m sorry.” Brendon looked after a pebble he’d kicked into the water.  
  
“And I said that it’s okay. Yes, it was pretty damn stupid of you and of course I was pissed at first, but I could have easily avoided it by telling you I was gonna leave for a while. Shoulda known you’d do something dumb like following me all the way to Norway.”  
  
Brendon ducked his head a little, faint blush gracing his cheeks and looked over the water again.  
“Woah, look!” he pointed to a fisherboat not too far out on the fjord. Someone had just reeled in a fish, and it wasn’t a small one.  
Dallon’s eyes followed his hand and they both watched the bustle on board of the boat.  
  
“We could go fishing, right? Or do we need a permit?” Brendon had never been deep sea fishing but he’d always wanted to.  
  
“We could, yeah. No permits or licences needed for deep sea or shore fishing. The boat came with renting the house, safety vests should be there, too. We would just have to lend some fishing gear.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Have a random end again. I hope I get to writing some more in the not too far future.

**Author's Note:**

> So this is it for now...  
> Please let me know what you think of it, I really need the feedback.


End file.
